


i drag you back, a sleepyhead

by sludgeraptor



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia, Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem 外伝 | Fire Emblem Gaiden
Genre: (its both of them), Childhood Friends, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Trans Male Character, but like not sexually theyre just sleebin., editing is for suckers, foolish teenage feelings, idk just enjoy, kliff is a mage. that's not important but it is how i classed him in my PT, like pre-tatiana and nuibaba and zeke times even, or like right after it, set after they get to rigel but very early on in that, so there's that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 03:00:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12289815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sludgeraptor/pseuds/sludgeraptor
Summary: Alm hasn't slept right in weeks. Neither has Kliff.Turns out you don't need a campfire if you've got someone to keep you warm.





	i drag you back, a sleepyhead

**Author's Note:**

> thank u to jude (fepathofradiance on tumblr) for this amazing idea. i have wanted to write some gay echoes fanfic for a while but i have not had ANY clue where to start so this is.....an Attempt.  
> i also kinda hurried to get this done before my inspiration ran out so i could post something. anything. anything at all. college and personal projects have meant writing something that doesn't feel rushed and awful (which...most of my fics do, to me, lmao) is really difficult.  
> but either way, it was nice to get something done! and especially something for the ram boys, who truly do not get enough love (if i had had the energy this would be tobin/gray/kliff/alm and we'd all die but thankfully i did not.)

Alm hasn’t slept right in weeks.

The bed’s too hard; the tents are too cold; the ground is so uneven. He isn’t one to complain, at least not loudly, at least not first, so he doesn’t. Bags are developing under his eyes. They’re hydras, he thinks - every time he manages to sleep one off, three more sprout in their place. Soon his entire face will be crow’s feet.

But he’s not one to complain, so he doesn’t.

Besides, everyone else seems to have adjusted to the changes just fine. Even Clair is doing only minimal whinging, which _really_ makes him feel pathetic.

(Was that mean? That felt mean.)

The only other person who seems tired is Kliff, who has _always_ seemed tired. He has ever since puberty spat him cold and unforgiving into teenagerdom, forcing him to land facefirst. Yet somehow he still maintains the aura of an angel; a soft face, gentle, sweet to look at, but with a cold edge warning strangers that the cherub’s original function was a soldier. Alm can’t believe this is the boy who used to cry at the sight of Gray’s nose bleeding. He’s so focused, so determined, so _unshaken_ by the horrors around them that Alm is awed. Is this the boy who sobbed that day Celica was taken from them? Is this the boy who wept openly at the slightest insult, who-

“Hey, watch it!” Python snaps, gruff.

Aaaaand he just walked into someone.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, hurrying past Python, who, now that he thinks about it, should definitely be in the back, not next to Forsyth and Lukas. But saying that has only ever gotten Python to chuckle ominously at him before, so he guesses he won’t.

“Seriously, Alm,” Kliff sighs, making Alm jump _(was he here the whole time? Was he here when Alm was thinking about him? What the fuck oh no)_. “You’re not supposed to be back here with us. You’re supposed to be up front, like a real leader.”

“A good commander should spend time with all of his troops,” Alm replies, sounding less confident about that than he’d like. “And...we haven’t talked in a while.”

“Yeah,” Kliff agrees, sounding not very displeased about that at all. Alm feels like he’s a puppy who just got punted across a river.

“Let’s catch up,” Alm says, trying not to let his devastation show on his face. “I miss talking to you.”

Kliff’s eyes scan his face, searching for something. An ulterior motive, maybe? Either way, he shrugs.

“You’re the boss.”

“That’s not quite as enthusiastic as I was hoping for,” Alm admits. He might be kinda whining.

Kliff huffs. “How can I be enthusiastic when we’re slogging through this cold mud and everyone stinks of sweat and I haven’t eaten anything that isn’t flavourless Rigelian gruel in weeks and my tomes are getting moldy and not to mention I haven’t slept at all because the ground is-”

“So uneven!” Alm finishes for him, lighting up. “Yes, I know exactly what you mean! And the blankets have been worn down after all this time, and the tents are barely even shelter from the wind, and Mila help me they don’t do anything to stop my nightmares like my comfy bed at home did,” he continues, definitely whining now.

Kliff looks positively stunned by the emotional outpouring. Ah, hell. He’s never been one for sharing feelings, not since he toughened up a few years ago. Alm swallows hard, turning his eyes forward. Alm doesn’t want to see Kliff’s face when he brings the axe down.

“You’ve been having nightmares too?” Kliff asks.

Oh. Oh, well. That’s…

“Yeah,” Alm says, looking back at Kliff. He sighs in audible relief. “A lot, actually. I mean, I always have, but I never remembered them when I woke up. Now...” He winces.

Kliff makes a grunting noise in the back of his throat, then goes silent for a few seconds.

“Do you remember when I would climb into your room sometimes? At night. When we were really little.” Kliff clears his throat after asking, turning his gaze forward. His cheeks go pink, a light flush that distracts Alm momentarily before he manages,

“Yeah. We’d sleep in the same bed. Whenever your mother upset you, or you had nightmares about her, or your dad leaving, or...anything, really.”

“I never slept right unless I was with you,” Kliff admits, the blush just getting redder. His eyes turn downwards, to the thunder tome clutched in his arms. “Don’t think anything of it. I was just a dumb kid. We both were...But maybe those awful drafty tents will be more comfortable with someone else there?”

Alm’s heartbeat is pounding in his ears. He wonders why his own cheeks are burning, why his brain is pulling up all those ancient, long-forgotten nights in crystal clarity.

“We can certainly try,” he says, smiling softly at Kliff. Kliff lets out another huffy noise.

“I’ll be there tonight. Don’t wait up.” Kliff’s marching speeds up, and he breaks off from the main group to walk by himself. His eyes are trained forward, never wandering.

Suddenly, Alm can’t wait for them to set up camp.

***

His eyes are finally starting to stay closed when he hears the sound of Kliff climbing into his tent, soft as the whispering breeze.

He sits up as Kliff hesitates there in the entrance, framed by the moonlight. His white hair is practically glowing, and his eyes shine like some rare exotic jewel Alm wouldn’t know the name of. His face is mostly shadowed, but Alm can see his mouth is pressed into a thin line, his jaw set.

“You’re up,” Kliff says.

“Yeah,” Alm agrees, breathless (although he has no idea why).

“I was hoping you wouldn’t be,” Kliff admits. Even so, he actually gets into the tent, closing it behind him and sitting on Alm’s bedroll, then just…

Staying there.

“Are you going to come over here or not?” Alm asks, laughing lightly.

“Sorry,” Kliff murmurs. He lays down, pulling Alm’s blanket over himself.

They don’t say anything after that, nor do they get any closer than having their backs pressed together, silent reassurance, wordless camaraderie. Kliff is warmer than Alm thought he would be, and that alone is enough to lull him into the deepest sleep he’s had in months.

When he wakes up, Kliff is gone, and the only sign he was even there is the blanket being tucked around Alm with some kind of clumsy tenderness.

He doesn’t feel so terrible about having to get up, now.

***

“How’d you sleep last night?”

Kliff bristles at the question when Alm asks it, narrowing his eyes.

“We don’t need to talk about this on the road, you know,” he grumbles.

“Where else would we talk about it? You make yourself so scarce.”

Kliff shrugs at that.

“It’s good to form bonds with your teammates, you know,” Alm points out, jostling Kliff with his shoulder playfully.

Kliff makes the most offended noise a human being could make in response. “I need to focus, Alm.”

“I’m only going to leave you alone if you talk to me or promise to talk to me later,” Alm jokes. “So you better focus on me for like five more minutes and then you can go back to doing mage stuff.”

“Spells, Alm. Mage stuff is called _spells_ ,” Kliff says, as condescending as he can manage. It’s probably meant to be an insult, but Alm laughs anyway.

“Maybe you could show me how sometime.”

“Absolutely not. You’d burn the camp down.” Kliff is pouting.

“Maybe then it’d finally be warm enough for everyone,” Alm jokes. Kliff’s mouth twitches upwards. Success! Alm quickly adds, “Do you think if I burnt down Tobin’s tent he’d stop complaining about Gray’s tent being closer to the fire than his?” That makes Kliff snort and then clap his hand over his mouth. Alm is buzzing.

“You’re too goofy to be a commander,” Kliff (clearly unwillingly) smiles, sighing deeply. “You should pay more attention to what we’re doing instead of bothering me all the time.”

“I like bothering you, Kliff. It’s like old times.”

Kliff makes another offended noise. Then he does the impossible and jostles Alm back with his shoulder, making Alm’s armour clang.

“Don’t ruin what little respect I have for you,” Kliff grumbles. He hurries off again, dumb mage cape fluttering out behind him as he goes.

Alm is frozen watching him for a second, heart suspended in his chest. Then he hears the sound of Clive’s horse whinnying and Gray swearing under his breath and he’s in the present again, marching to his possible death at the hands of an empire like it’s normal.

“You’re welcome to come back tonight, you know!” he calls after Kliff on impulse.

...Yeah, Kliff probably didn’t hear that, but everyone else is giving him looks now.

Oh well.

***

Alm disobeys Kliff’s one rule that night. He waits up.

When Kliff pushes his tent open, he’s greeted by Alm sitting there, arms wrapped around his knees, head resting on them, eyes barely open.

“What are you doing?” Kliff asks, exasperated.

“Waiting for you,” Alm says, rubbing his eyes. He states it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Really, he thinks, it is.

“I told you not to,” Kliff says, walking in and climbing into bed anyway. He pushes the blanket out from under Alm, pulling it over the both of them. “I might not have come.”

“I knew you would,” Alm insists.

“No, you didn’t,” Kliff replies, curling his knees up like Alm and leaning against him. “You just really hoped.”

It’s Alm’s turn to huff. “Do you have to be so smart all the time?”

“Someone around here’s gotta,” Kliff mumbles.

They sit there like that for a while, Alm letting Kliff’s warmth soak into his skin. Kliff is like the moon or something, looking bright and cold and cruel. But that brightness came directly from the sun.

“I didn’t have a nightmare last night,” he murmurs, letting his head loll to rest on Kliff’s.

“That’s nice, Alm.”

Alm isn’t even offended this time. He leans back to lay down, gently pulling Kliff with him. Kliff doesn’t resist, even cuddling into Alm’s chest when they’re down.

“Don’t look at me when I come here,” Kliff mumbles eventually. “I try to come when you’re asleep for a reason, you know.”

“You know I don’t wear anything to compress my chest either when I go to bed, right?” Alm asks, almost at a whisper. He’s already almost falling asleep.

“It’s the principle of the thing,” Kliff insists. His voice is tired, too.

“OK. I’ll try not to look.”

Kliff hugs him tighter in response.

That night, Alm dreams of stars and white hair and exotic jewels he doesn’t know the name of.

***

They stay like that for a week or two, spending the days talking idly and the nights curled up together, before Clive pulls him aside when the army is resting.

“You know,” Clive says, voice dripping paternal concern, “if you’re not interested in marrying a woman, that’s absolutely fine.”

Alm spits out the water he was trying to chug. It sprays all over Clive, whose only reaction is a split-second mildly disgusted face. Alm wipes at his mouth, and, after a moment of thought, tries to wipe at Clive’s, but Clive shakes his head, leaning away.

“The soldiers have noticed Kliff coming in and out of your tent at strange hours,” Clive continues. “You needn’t hide anything going on between the two of you. Leaps and bounds have been made in that area in recent years. I hear there’s even a fellow in Celica’s army who is very openly and exclusively into men-”

“That’s wonderful,” Alm interrupts, cheeks burning. “But it’s _not_ why Kliff has been staying in my tent.”

“Oh?” Clive says, eyebrows raising. “I apologise for overstepping, then. But if you don’t mind my asking...”

“We’d been having trouble sleeping. It was a solution that worked when we were children. We thought it might work again,” Alm explains. He feels like he’s on fire. Why does it feel like he’s telling a lie even when he knows he isn’t?

“I see. Well, you have been looking more energetic lately. Forget I said anything. Carry on, Alm.” Clive smiles at him, that gentle, understanding thing. It makes Alm’s gut twist. He feels as if he’s just said some horrible untruth that will unravel the entire foundation of the Deliverance.

He bids Clive a hurried farewell and spends the rest of the march at the front, away from most of the others. Away from Kliff. The thought brings acid to his throat.

Is he upset because he won’t get to talk to Kliff today? That’s ridiculous. Even Kliff had said this was his duty.

Gods, he’s not fit to do this.

***

“In my nightmares, everybody dies and it’s my fault.”

Kliff stares at him with hooded eyes, lips pressed tight together, jaw set. The tent is semi-dark, and Kliff’s irises seem to glow like a cat in the strange lighting. “That won’t happen, Alm.”

“You don’t know that. It could.”

“It won’t happen.”

“Why not?” Alm rasps. He’s on the verge of tears. “Tobin, Gray, Faye, Lukas, Clair, Clive, Mathilda - all of them. And it’d be my fault. Gods, I’m supposed to be able to handle this, I’m supposed to know what to do and instead I’m crying to you because I -” He takes in a shuddery breath. “You could die, too, you know. You didn’t have to come with me. You shouldn’t have come with me. I should never have-”

“It won’t happen because I refuse to die on you, you idiot,” Kliff cuts him off, exasperated.

Alm hesitates for a moment. “What?”

“It won’t happen,” Kliff repeats. His eyes flicker down. “I didn’t follow you out here for nothing. I don’t know about anybody else, but I’m not going to leave you until this is over. And that means I won’t die, either.”

Alm’s breathing is the only sound in the tent. It’s soft and ragged, harried. Kliff puts his hands on Alm’s chest, curling his fingers into the fabric there.

“It’s not just for you,” Kliff adds, voice quiet.

“I know.”

“I want to see more of the world before I leave it.”

“I know.”

Kliff’s grip tightens. “I wouldn’t have been able to leave if it weren’t for you. I owe you a thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Alm begs. He feels tears prick at his eyes. “Please. Wait.”

“I won’t die,” Kliff reassures him. “I’m not going anywhere for a while yet.”

Alm wraps his arms around Kliff, pulling him close. “Please don’t.”

“I told you I won’t.”

“Tell me again,” Alm insists. “I’m sorry. I’m...I should know better. I should be stronger. But I’m...” He swallows hard. “I’m scared, Kliff.”

The silence between them is thick enough that Alm isn’t even sure if his sword could cut it. But then Kliff hugs him back, light, hesitant.

“Don’t say stupid things. I’m not going,” he mutters.

Alm buries his face in Kliff’s hair, trying to stop the tears from leaking out. “Thank you.”

They stay like that for a while, before Kliff says,

“I never have nightmares with you, either. That’s why I always come back.”

“I know,” Alm replies, openly confused.

“I never said it. I thought you might want to know.” Kliff breathes out hard, making the fabric of Alm’s shirt warm. Alm wonders for a second if he’s embarrassed.

“It’s definitely good to hear you’re not just in here for the reassuring presence my muscles bring,” Alm jokes, voice still strained. Kliff snorts.

“Go to bed, Alm.”

Alm laughs, but complies. They fall asleep like that, curled up in each other, warmer than blankets could ever hope to make them.

When Alm wakes, Kliff is gone again, just like every morning. And just like every morning, he’s been tucked in. It usually feels almost empty, like an afterthought.

That morning, it feels like another embrace.

***

“You and Kliff have been pretty close lately,” Gray comments neutrally as they eat by the fire a few days later.

“I guess,” Alm agrees. He’s learned to brace when Kliff is brought up. He doesn’t want to, but people only seem to ask him the strangest questions about it. Things haven’t been quite so...exaggerated since the Clive incident, since he’s pretty sure Clive talked to everyone about it (which is mortifying, and he tries not to think about it), but whatever.

“He doesn’t talk to anybody but you and Tobin,” Gray whines. “It’s not fair. We’ve all been friends forever, right?”

“You should talk to him,” Alm encourages, shovelling some food into his mouth entirely gracelessly. “He’s just got a few thorns, is all,” he continues, through the extremely underseasoned rabbit meat.

“What, like a rose?” Gray teases, which almost makes Alm choke.

“That is _not_ what I said,” he gasps.

“Oh, come on, Alm. He sleeps in your tent every night. Everyone knows-”

“Augh! I thought Clive had set everyone straight about that!” Alm cries. He’s burning. His face is on fire. This is the worst, actually. He wishes Mila would open up the ground and swallow him whole, never letting him see the light of day or Gray’s dumb smug face again.

“Well, yeah, he told us to stop gossipping, but since when has telling someone to stop gossipping ever actually stopped them gossipping?” Gray asks, smirking. “Look, you can tell me the truth. No one cares, y’know. Well, Faye got weird about it, but then Tobin gave her that pouty glare he always does - you know the one - and she stopped.”

“Nothing is happening. We had nightmares, okay? And when we were kids, he’d stay at my place sometimes to put them off. So we just tried it and it worked. It’s really not as much as everyone keeps acting like it is.” He’s still blushing so hard as he explains, though.

Ugh, why is everything so...everything?

“Alright, alright. I’ll get off your back about it.” Gray pokes at his food. “But, y’know, if you _were_ gay, you could tell m-”

 _“Gray_ ,” Alm hisses.

“Haha, sorry. But seriously.”

Alm doesn’t dignify that with a response, shoving as much food into his mouth as he’s able so he doesn’t have to talk anymore.

Kliff’s tendency to eat alone seems all at once like a blessing rather than a curse. Not that he was ever really bothered by it. Was he?

Augh, forget it.

***

Kliff walks with Alm back to his tent that night, rather than creep in late.

Alm doesn’t outwardly question it, but inside a thousand different inquiries are bouncing around in his heads. Why now? Why tonight? Why couldn’t Alm have gone to bed later instead of now when everyone is _staring at them walking together oh my Gods_?

“You’re tense,” Kliff says as they reach Alm’s tent.

“Is it that obvious?” Alm sighs.

“Yeah, kinda. You’ve never been good at hiding this stuff.” Kliff smiles a little as he says that, not the cruel smirk he reserves for teasing or the battlefield, but a gentle thing that Alm hasn’t seen regularly since they were children.

“Sorry,” Alm sighs, holding open the tent for Kliff and then immediately regretting it when he remembers that people are still around. Then he feels dumb for regretting it and - all of that gets pushed out of his head when Kliff heads inside, brushing against him ever so slightly to do so.

He squeezes his eyes shut for a few seconds and opens them again, trying to reset on whatever just happened. He follows Kliff inside.

Kliff is undressing, taking off his cape and some of the bulkier bits of the mage outfit he’d adopted after leaving Ram village. Alm looks away - tells himself he isn’t interested in doing anything but looking away - and starts undoing his armour. It’s such a pain to deal with, especially alone. He always gets bits stuck that aren’t supposed to get stuck, and everything creaks and then he pinches himself and his sleeveless sweater underneath gets caught on it and nearly rips and Gods how many times has he had to come to Lukas with yet _another_ hole in his trousers thanks to his inability to unfasten the tiny! parts! there are so many tiny parts and all of them _suck_ and he hates them and-

He makes an alarmed and altogether unattractive croaking noise as Kliff starts to help him undo his armour.

“You’re hopeless,” Kliff sighs, pulling off his shoulder protection. “I didn’t realise this was why you always went to bed so early.”

“That’s not why,” Alm complains, pouting.

Kliff just chuckles softly. He helps Alm get out of his armour, leaving only aforementioned sweater (which, now that he thinks about it, looks kind of goofy without the armour) and trousers.

“Your shirt is really stupid,” Kliff says, as neutrally as it’s possible to say that. “I never noticed because it was always hidden under all that other stuff.”

“Hey,” Alm grumbles. “You wear a cape all day. Don’t think your horse is so high.”

“That is _not_ how that expression goes,” Kliff smirks.

Still, he goes to Alm’s bed and lays there, not before kicking off his boots. He curls up on his side, not pulling the blanket over himself.

He won’t until Alm joins him. Alm knows that, and it makes his heart flutter.

But Alm can’t, suddenly. He feels airy but buzzy, like the Ram wine he’s not allowed to drink but always sneaks sips of anyway. He puts off having to lie down by going around his tent and putting out all the lights, but it only takes a minute or so.

Shit.

Why is he even nervous? Kliff being there at night has always calmed him down, but now it just makes him feel...

“Something wrong?” Kliff calls, jerking him out of his stupor.

He exhales, shaky. “Uh, maybe?”

“What is it?” Kliff asks. Alm hears him sitting up, attentive. That only makes it _worse_ , somehow!

Alm turns to face him, trying not to let his anxiety show. “I don’t know? It’s just, everyone’s been asking me about us lately, and it’s kinda got me thinking about it, maybe? Is it weird, what we do? I just want to be able to sleep normally, and you’re the only one who helps - I mean, I tried everything before this! I even jogged around camp every night until I was going to collapse. Or felt like it, at least. It didn’t help, though. But you...did?” He rubs at his face, knowing he’s rambling but not caring to stop it.

“It must be because of when we were children, I don’t know. Maybe that wasn’t normal either? But they’re some of my fondest memories, so I...” Alm sighs, shaking his head. “I dunno. Sorry. We should go to bed.”

“It might be weird,” Kliff replies without hesitation.

“Oh,” Alm says. “Wait. Why?”

Kliff shrugs. “Because I didn’t stop having nightmares when I slept in here.”

Alm makes a confused noise, but Kliff doesn’t acknowledge it. He closes his eyes, curling up his knees, and continuing with, “I never stopped having nightmares when we slept in the same room. Not even when we were little. It’s just.”

He sets his jaw again, looking away from Alm. Alm can’t be sure in the dark, but he feels like that light pink is dusting Kliff’s cheeks once more. “Whenever I wake up from a nightmare about something going wrong. It doesn’t matter what it is. When I was alone, I’d just stay up staring at the ceiling, wishing it would stop. I would get so caught up in those thoughts, in my own cycle of...” Kliff trails off. Alm’s throat is dry.

“But when I wake up and you’re there,” Kliff continues, voice softening. “I always look at your face. You look so peaceful. And lately, so determined. And when I look at you, I can’t help but feel like I’m safe. Ram never felt like home to me, except for those times, watching you.”

Alm’s got no words. All the air has been snatched from his lungs in a terrifying and swift air-snatching spell enacted by this cruel wizard in front of him.

“Don’t just leave it there,” Kliff snaps, looking off to the side.

“Sorry,” Alm breathes. “Sorry. I just.” He starts crossing the tent to Kliff, quick but hesitant strides.

Kliff doesn’t even seem to notice Alm approaching. “And if you don’t feel the same, that’s fine. I expected it. I was kind of a jerk to you at first and I-”

As soon as Alm reaches Kliff, Alm kisses him, clumsy and fast and desperate.

Kliff makes a confused little sound, then melts, arms wrapping around Alm’s neck. They’re both inexperienced, so it’s sloppy and kind of gross, but also warm and sweet and gentle and Gods Alm is on fire.

Kliff is the one to break the kiss, smiling that rare soft smile again. He leans his forehead against Alm’s.

“I should’ve noticed sooner,” Alm smiles, rubbing Kliff’s cheek with his thumb.

“No, you shouldn’t have. I would’ve been furious with you.” Kliff leans into the touch, eyes closed.

Alm laughs, too loud for the situation. He feels so warm and fuzzy and eager to stay with Kliff for the rest of the night. The rest of every night. “I’m glad I waited, then.”

Kliff makes a soft sound in response, content. “Come on. I really am tired. Let’s go to bed.”

Alm nods and pulls away. He starts crawling into the bed.

“Are we dating now?” Alm asks as he does, eyes wide.

Kliff scoffs. He gets under the covers next to Alm and wraps his arms around Alm tight. Alm embraces Kliff in turn, burying his face in Kliff’s shoulder and breathing in his smell, the smell of tomes and farmland and open air.

He’s almost asleep when Kliff mumbles, “Only if you want us to be.”

Alm makes a content little noise and pulls Kliff closer. “Always.”

He can’t wait to get up, now.

**Author's Note:**

> this was kind of intended to loosely follow a support system structure, w/ the conversations depicted being something akin to C-S supports  
> what i'm saying is they get married  
> if you ever want to talk to me about gay fire emblem, feel free to message me @ vapidmalefloozy on tumblr, or @ sludgeraptor if you wanna request some art! i am always up to talk about these children


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